


Bed & Breakfast

by sir_coriander_cadaverish



Series: Blizzard Boys [2]
Category: Nimona (Webcomic)
Genre: Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish
Summary: As night falls and the blizzard rages on, the boys grow a bit - uh - closer. In a couple of ways.
Relationships: Ballister Blackheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin
Series: Blizzard Boys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695010
Kudos: 3





	Bed & Breakfast

"Hey, by the way," Ambrosius said once they'd finished eating, "How's the shoulder?" Ballister stretched his arm out now that Ambrosius had stood up. "...Better," he said, "I hardly feel anything anymore." Ambrosius seemed satisfied with his own first-aid skills. "Good," he replied, "Keep updating me, though." He started collecting trash, humming softly to himself. "I've got a question," Ballister said, as though he'd been holding it back for a while. "Hmm?"  
"Why are you doing this?" Ambrosius turned and gave Ballister a quizzical look. "Doing what?" Ballister gestured vaguely around. "Y'know... taking care of me." Ambrosius looked at him blankly. "Because I care about you," he said matter-of-factly.  
"But why? We're on opposite sides, " Ballister pointed out. Ambrosius dismissed this with a toss of his hair. "Oh, come on," he huffed, "My side, your side, you know none of that stuff is actually _real,_ Ballister. It's just a big charade we all have to play." The way he said it with such casual breeziness rubbed Ballister the wrong way. He glared pointedly down at his metal arm. "Not all of it, it seems," he said darkly. Ambrosius rolled his eyes; "Can you please give it a rest? Just this once?" he asked. Ballister wouldn't reply. Ambrosius gave a deflated little sigh. "Look," he said in a more serious tone, "I know a lot has happened between us-" "No kidding," Ballister muttered. "But," Ambrosius went on, "You protected me for our entire childhood." It got quiet then. Ballister's face was unreadable; he seemed lost in thought. Ambrosius fidgeted with his hands for a moment, then added, "I feel like it's my turn. I owe you this, at least."  
Finally, Ballister shrugged. "Alright. I'll take that."  
After about an hour of casual talking and hanging around, they realized that it was getting late. Apprehensively, Ambrosius cleared his throat and said, "So I was looking around at what the sleeping situation is gonna be like, and uh... well, let's just say I've got good news and bad news." Ballister raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said slowly, "Give me the good news first." With a nervous smile, Ambrosius said, "Well, it's... uh... it's a pretty big bed." Ballister did a double take. "'It?' There's only- _There's only one?"_ he cried. Ambrosius whispered, "Yeah, that was the bad news..." With a grave expression, Ballister bit his lip. "Look," he said, "You can have the bed. I can, uh-" he looked around, faltering as he realized that there was no couch. "I can, uh... sleep on the floor." Ambrosius grabbed his (uninjured) shoulder fiercely and said, "Absolutely not. It's too cold for you to sleep on the floor - a metal floor, for god's sake! I won't let you." At this, Ballister sighed in defeat. "So... we'll share it, then?" Ambrosius nodded reluctantly, and gave a passive little shrug. "Yeah. We'll share it. It's no problem." "Yeah," Ballister concluded. "It's fine." They fell silent for about a minute.  
Then Ambrosius said awkwardly, "So... you ready?" "Sure. Um. Let's go."  
  
Surprisingly, the wildly uncomfortable conversation they'd just finished (and the awkwardness that accompanied it) almost instantly dissipated once the men actually went to bed. It was a full moon, which could be seen through a small circular window, and the room was filled with opaline moonlight and an easy silence. Ambrosius was right - it _was_ a big bed. A moment later, though, Ballister felt a sudden dread. "Shit," he whispered to himself. "What is it?" Ambrosius asked, overhearing him.  
"I can't believe I didn't think to ask this earlier," Ballister muttered, "But there aren't any cameras in this thing, are there?" Ambrosius shook his head, his hair shimmering as he sat down beside him on the bed. "Nope, they took all the gadgets out of these years ago. Had to put them to better use." Ballister relaxed once more, the pleasant calm of night returning to him. Ambrosius seemed amused. "Why?" Ballister shrugged. "Well, we wouldn't want to get caught doing anything unprofessional." Whether he'd meant it to or not, the sentence which Ballister had just uttered caused the air in the room to completely shift. Suddenly, the moonlight seemed to almost waver with tension. Ambrosius gazed at him, his eyes searching Ballister's intensely. "Why," he said with small smile, "Did you have anything unprofessional in mind?" Before Ballister could think up a reply, Ambrosius was smiling down on him and his breath caught in his throat and the pair found themselves, with long-lost familiarity, slipping into a situation which neither of them would ever acknowledge aloud - and, dear reader, whatever happened for the rest of that night will have to remain between the men and the moon.  
  
\---  
  
When Ballister woke up the next day thanks to cool, bright rays of sunlight which were shining insistently on his face, he was first met with a handful of rapid-fire observations. _This isn't my fortress,_ he first realized. Then, _This isn't my bed._ Finally, _How did I get here again?_ As he struggled to remember, he became suddenly aware of someone else's soft breathing... someone else's fragranced shampoo... and someone else's arms wrapped around him. In an instant, it all came flooding back to him. _Damn._  
For a second, Ballister felt the urge to escape. Now was the perfect chance, with Ambrosius caught off-guard - besides, in the time it would take him to throw on his armor, Ballister would already be off, galloping away on Ambrosius' steed. But then, the second passed, and Ballister thought of the icy winds outside, and the snowflakes that bite your ears and nose, and not to mention the endless sea of blinding snow... and he decided that it would be wisest to wait it out. Besides, he hated to admit, that was the greatest he'd slept in months.  
After a couple minutes of laying there nestled against Ambrosius, which was actually quite pleasant, Ballister finally sighed and tried to gently wrest himself free from the man, who was still fast asleep.  
Except that Ambrosius didn't budge. His remarkably strong arms were secured rather tightly around Ballister's torso. _Wow,_ he mused, _Some things really never change._ Tentatively, Ballister gave one final tug, and Ambrosius' eyes fluttered open. Instantly, he realized what Ballister was trying to do; flushing from mild embarassment, he released Ballister and the two of them lay beside each other.  
"Morning," Ballister said, half-amiably. Ambrosius yawned, his hair ever-glittering in the sunlight. He was stunning, Ballister found himself noticing despite every fiber in his body trying to ignore it. "Morning," he replied, "Did you sleep well?" Ballister internally groaned at the forced small talk, but his reply was a polite "Yes, thank you." Ambrosius smiled sweetly at him, then sat up and stretched, the covers slipping to reveal a bit too much of his toned waistline. Suddenly Ballister remembered one final detail from the day before that had slipped his mind: _We fucked._ His eyes widened as he recalled the memory, feeling the mortification slowly creeping in. _J_ _esus Christ... we're supposed to be the two worst enemies in the kingdom, and we fucked!_  
He was still processing this when Ambrosius stood up and, locating his clothes, strolled into the bathroom to get dressed. _Seems like we're just going to pretend that it never happened,_ Ballister thought.  
And that's exactly what they did.  
  
\---  
  
Later that morning, when Ballister entered the kitchen, Ambrosius was already there, rummaging through one of the cabinets. "Morning, sunshine," Ambrosius greeted him without turning around. "Don't call me that," Ballister muttered. Now Ambrosius looked over at him, amused. "What would you prefer? 'Hello darkness, my old friend?'" Ballister tried to scowl at Ambrosius, whose back had already turned again. "Yes, that would be much better," he replied. "Here, catch," Ambrosius said, tossing him a small package of brown paper; Ballister caught it without hesitation. He untied the twine and discovered... two graham crackers. His eyes slid slowly from the crackers to Ambrosius. "Seriously?" Ambrosius sighed. "Yep." "What else is there?" Ambrosius closed the cabinet and shrugged. "More graham crackers. Oh, and some water. And..." he pulled something off the shelf. "Teabags, for some reason." Curious, Ballister broke off a piece of the graham cracker, tried it, and immediately made a face. "Eugh," he said, "God, they're-" "Stale, I know. I'm not surprised," Ambrosius admitted; "The Institution just doesn't use recovery pods that often anymore." "Why is that?" Ballister asked, as they sat down with their - er - breakfast and attempted to eat. "When the Director started gaining power, she changed a lot of policies," Ambrosius explained. "She prefers not to waste resources like this on regular people anymore. The way she sees it, if one of ours gets injured, they can return to the base and get help there. And if one of the commoners gets injured, well..." "Forget them," Ballister concluded. Ambrosius pressed his lips together and nodded. "...Yeah." It was quiet for a second. Then Ballister said, "That's... really messed up." "Yes, well," Ambrosius said as though preprogrammed to say so, "I'm sure she has her reasons." Ballister rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure." Exasperated, Ambrosius burst out, "Look, there's not much I can do about it! I may have fame, but I don't have any real power!" He took a hard bite off his remaining cracker and sighed, "Ballister, I know the Director is wrong sometimes. But nobody would ever listen to me even if I _did_ point it out." "But you don't," Ballister said coldly. "Ballister, please! I don't have a choice, okay? I mean... chances are, if I made a fuss, they'd just get rid of me. And if I got expelled from the Institution, what would I even do?" Ballister reclined in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "I dunno," he said nonchalantly, "Perhaps you could get a house somewhere _and continue to enjoy the benefits of your immense popularity with the townspeople."_ Ambrosius considered this, then countered, "But you know the Institution would find a way to frame me as a bad person." Ballister stifled a bitter laugh at the irony of this statement. "Fine, then in that case, you could become a villain... like me." Ambrosius smiled wryly, standing up and heading to the kitchen. "Well, you've already got a pretty good racket going. Wouldn't want to put you out of business." Ballister retorted over his shoulder, "As if you ever could!"  
  
~End of Chapter 2~

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh its been a while since i updated this series, hope you all enjoyed it :)) and if anyone would like to challenge me for making Ballister the little spoon I would like to remind you all that that particular detail is confirmed CANON.
> 
> which is actually so adorable when you think about it holy cow
> 
> and yes the 1-bed thing is a huge cliche but lord forgive me bc it's a damn good cliche 😫🙌🏾


End file.
